


Laurens' Interlude

by princess_current



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Death, Fluff/Angst/Comfort, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU, i mean its called laurens interlude- what do you think the tags are gonna be, the main tag is lams sooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_current/pseuds/princess_current
Summary: In a Modern AU, Hamilton and Laurens wake up to a devastating sight- a Trump riot had flooded the streets, and people are filtering out their houses to rebel. And Laurens seems determined to serve his part.





	

Alex stretched his arms out, letting out a long and curled yawn. Tiredness sewed his eyelashes shut, his dark circles only helping with the downfall. He struggled to open his eyes, turning to face the man beside him. Through his tired squinting, he could see the curly haired boy, his long locks rolling down his shoulders and bounced to the tune of his smiles. His freckled square face gave a chuckle as he leaned in and gave Alex a sweet kiss on the forehead.  
“Get some rest, we’ve got a big day today.” He said with ease, the words melodically twirling off his tongue and gracing Alex’s ears with a warm tingle.   
Alex gave a bashful laugh, rubbing his eyes again. “Heh, I guess… You better sleep as well.”  
Laurens laughed, shifting his body towards his, smiling. “Of course... “ He paused, leaving some time for Alex to yawn again, but Laurens seized the opportunity and tackled Alex, pinning him to the ground and hugging his broad torso, neatly clothed with warm fuzzy pajamas. Alex chuckled, fighting back by trying to wriggle out of his grip, even in his sleep deprived state. Laurens still had a pretty tight grip, as he couldn’t budge from the warmth of his body. He eventually gave in, and flopped on the ground, taking a deep breath of exhaustion.  
Laurens giggled and gave a sigh of relief. “Alright, goodnight Alexander…”  
“Good night, John.”  
The freckled boy smiled, kissing the side of Alex’s body, and then resting his head against his chest. His warmth was sprinkled throughout his nerves like confetti thrown into the air, and he closed his eyes with a smile on his face.  
And before he knew it, the world vanished and all he was left with was the darkness.

~-~

He awoke by a loud bang thrusted upon his door, making him jolt in his position, flying from his seat and being thrust upright. Laurens jumped as well, tightening his grip Alex’s torso and making a yelp. His father burst through the door, still in his pajamas, but obviously long beyond awake. The Washington’s face was plastered with fear and shock, his eyes dilated to pin heads. Alex opened his mouth to protest his presence when Laurens was over, but he beat the race to speak.  
“Son! Get up and get dressed!”  
“W-What..?” Alex’s voice was groggy, obviously needing to clear his throat and open his eyes.  
“The Pro-Trumps; they’re here!”  
His throat closed on impact, anxiety piling behind his windpipe. He didn’t want to deal with this, and god, he didn’t ever want to experience a Trump riot. He turned to look at Laurens, which only returned the frighted look. His face was forged into a look of terror and danger, but then started to melt into a depressed look, his depression beating his tears. Goddamn Trumps. All they do is fuck up people’s lives like my Laurens. He hastily got up, nodding at his father.  
Just as George turned to get ready, Alex stopped him and asked. “George, can we see the riot first?”  
George’s eyes flickered left and right, not knowing which eye to look into, but he nodded, and rushed back to his bedroom. Alex grabbed Laurens’ feeble hand and started to run, dashing through rooms and sprinting up the cellar stairs. He bashed through the door, booking through the dark and clammy space to throw open the double doors at the end, only to be graced at the most stomach churning scene he’s ever seen. Over the railed balcony, several feet below him was thousands, maybe even millions of men swarmed in the street, throwing Pro-Trump signs and tons of riffles. Some held torches, some held swords, and even some brought in their machine guns. Screaming screeched across the neighborhood, almost becoming deafening at the yells of freedom. There were people running out of there houses, and trying to stop the riot, but only being thrown against the walls and down to the floors, probably breaking their bones while there were at it.   
Alex felt his lungs collapsing on himself, each breath harder and harder to take. Tears instinctively crawled into the corners of his eyes, some even running down his face. His legs began to shake and his body began to quake. He had to hold on to Laurens’ arms to keep him from collapsing on himself, which he instinctively grabbed his arms back, slowly descending and gently resting his body on the ground. Alex’s eyes were shrouded with tears, as his world swirled into a mix of light and dark browns, the blood pulsing in his eyes made his eyesight jitter. His breathing had gone hoarse, taking faster and louder breaths, trying to collect any oxygen he could find. His stomach churned with a sickening feeling, almost making himself vomit. He had to close his eyes, making the world fade to black and his tears fall from his face. Everything was happening so fast- the shouting penetrated his ear drums as he tried to shut out the world this his head. Everything.. So.. Quick, and sudden… So…. So…..  
He was jolted to the present as Laurens shook his arms and yelled with a panicked and forceful yell. “ALEXANDER!” Upon opening his eyes, he was graced by Laurens looking at him dead in the eye, his expression torn with fear and worry, his eyes dilated with anxiety. After seeing Alex fine, he relaxed his expression a bit, still leaving the sternness of his tone behind.  
“Alex, I know it looks bad, but we just have to go get Lafayette and Hercules; they’ll protect us along with your father.”  
Alex gave a shaky nod.  
“Alright. Just, take a deep breath; everything’s gonna be fine. We’ll get this fixed.”  
Alex gave another nod, closing eyes and releasing a shaky breath. He tightened his grip on Laurens as he leaned in, needing to get closer to safety. He was greeted by a warm shoulder, a face leaning into his, trying to calm his fear of the future. The distraught man took attempts to slow his breathing, taking deep breaths and jittery cries. Laurens repeated to whisper in his ear calming remarks, and stating that this will all be over soon. The warmth of his cheeks soothed his heartbeat, as he could finally take a breath after trying to gasp for a glimmer of hope. His deathly tight grip eased with each breath, finally relaxing in the arms of his beloved.  
Laurens waited a couple moments until he slowly got up and picked Alex, snatching under his legs and holding onto his upper body. Alex repositioned his arms, placing them around Laurens’ neck and locking his fingers in a secure gesture. He still kept his eyes closed, but he could feel him starting to walk down back inside, keeping Alex close to his snug body. He walked for a while, up and down stairs to navigate through his interesting house. Eventually, he reached a stopping point. When Laurens stopped walking, he could hear his heartbeat in his chest skyrocket. Dear God, what happened.  
Laurens was the first to speak, vibrations pulsed through his chest. “George, what’s going on?” He could hear the despair in his voice.  
“I’m sorry… Lafayette and Hercules ran out the door before I could stop them, but they grabbed their rifles and ran…” He could tell by the hitching in his voice, George was tearing up over his son. Alexander bit his tongue, holding his breath, wishing that was all it would take to make this all go away.   
Laurens waited a moment, catching his breath. “What are they gonna do?”  
“What did it look like? They ran out, rifles in hand, and ready to kill the president himself!” George sputtered, a tone of sarcastic anger in his voice.   
“Well, are ya gonna go?”  
George paused a second, processing that thought, but he replied with regret. “Yes, I’m going in.”  
Alex’s heart skipped a beat as his throat shut tight. He flipped his head up and turned to look at George. “George? You-- You can’t go!!” He sputtered with urgency, giving his father a look of concern and stress, having his eyes glint with a tint of fear. Laurens jolted at his movement, but he managed to relax his arms and set him down, having him stand upright and apart from Laurens.  
George stared at Alex longingly for a couple heart beats, but he turned around and called out for his wife. “Martha, get Laurens and Alex downstairs to the cellar.” He started to stride towards the racks of military suits, and started to strap his clothes into his suit. Alex felt his lungs deteriorating as he packed up, the world starting to shift under his weight. He blinked hard and looked back at Laurens, hearing his mother run into the living room, aiming to rush the boys downstairs. Alex and Laurens locked eyes, staring at eachother with the same pained expression of despair and distraught. Laurens’ expression melted into a determined frown, and he looked up at George and cleared his throat of his fears.  
“George, I’m going with you.”  
It was hard to wrap that around his head, having the idea of Laurens leaving to practically suicide out there swimming in his loose thoughts. His stomach did a tumble as he grew nauseated, a sickening acid gurgling in his throat. He grabbed his wrist and held it tight and close to himself, looking Laurens straight in the eye.  
“W-wAIT! Laurens, you can’t leave me here!”  
He turned to look at him again, determination soaking up in his damp eyes. “Alex, I’m going to fight for my country, and you’re willing to join me.”  
Alex took a minute to process this, but he sputtered back. “Please, John, I don't even know how to load to rifle!”  
“Then you’re better off here.” Laurens started to stride towards the racks, but Alex slowed him down, walking with him with a urgency.  
“Laurens, please don’t go! There are other t-times to fight!!”  
“Alex, please let go of me.”  
“I’m not going to until you go downstairs with me!”  
“I said, let go.” His voice was more stern than Alex has ever heard it.  
“Dear God, Laurens just let it go!! You know I can't live without you!”  
Laurens twisted his wrist and yanked it out of his grip and continued to wrap himself up in the military outfits. Alex didn’t stop persisting, as he launched for his arm this time, and yanked it back to him. He met face to face with an fumed expression, Laurens cheeks flushing with a deep red of anger. His eyes were fixed on Alex’s, fueled with a temporary rage at Alex’s persistence. Alex’s face dropped, feeling his heart tear in two, seeing his Laurens irritated with him and just wanting to fight. He swallowed hard and spoke.  
“Laurens, please… Don’t leave me.”  
Laurens’ expression relaxed, staring back into his eyes. He softened his glare and held Alex’s arms, and drew him close. Alex’s face started to tingle with blush, a warmth sprinkled on his face. Laurens closed his eyes and leaned in, placing his warm lips right on top of his. Alex was caught off guard, the sudden sweet kiss making his face explode with warmth. He couldn’t recall how long it was, but it was long enough for Alex to get lost in the daze of love. He had closed his eyes, falling into a sea of bliss as he let Laurens take him.  
As it ended, he released with care, retracting his lips and his body, to look into Alex’s eyes. He returned the look, seeing his damp eyes and love struck daze. It only took a heartbeat for the moment to end, as a gun crackled across the town, only followed by dozens of shots. Bullets whizzed past the boys, breaking into the walls of their beloved and warm house. Everything became a large blur for Alex, as the gunshots blurred into white ringing in his ears, and the warmth escaped his arms as Laurens started to run. Pain had sliced through his left shoulder, not giving him time to process everything that was happening. He lost balance, as he collapsed on a hard floor, his head slamming into the wooden tiles. The world started to trip, as he could see feet running in and out of doors, and blood trickling on the smooth tiles. He could see the high heels of his mother, but he couldn’t feel anything from his left shoulder. The last thing he can remember doing was trying to scream for help, but only having a raspy call for his love.


End file.
